


Dead.

by AwesomeAlex



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, I'm sitting in the park uploading this on my phone, M/M, Okay I am done with the tags, Sherlock dies and John cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeAlex/pseuds/AwesomeAlex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I promise I will get better at naming my fanfics. Sherlock goes off by himself an ends up getting shot. Idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3 am on my phone, sorry if its not great. I tried my best to edit it and stuff but its hard when using a phone. So yeah enjoy this whilst I write a sequel to 'Jam'.

It's not like Sherlock meant to get shot, he had gone chasing after a suspect with out informing anybody about it. If he had stopped to tell call John or Lestrade the suspect would have gotten away, plus the guy he was after was no older then 17 so Sherlock was adamant that he did not need anyone's help. Turns out he did since the boy had a gun and knew how to use it, Sherlock had managed to corner the kid and took a lunge at him to try and get the fun but the suspect was quicker and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet right into Sherlock's chest. 

Sherlock had fallen to the ground, pain flying through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned onto his side, bringing his hands up to press against the hole that was now in his chest. He heard the police sirens and tried to focus on the sound as it got closer.

The next thing he knew he was being pushed onto his back, his hands were pried away from the wound on his chest. "Sherlock!" The voice seemed distant in Sherlock's head yet he recognised it. "You are going to be okay, just stay with me okay?" 

"John." Sherlock managed to get out, opening his eyes to look at the doctors worried face.

"Don't talk, save your breath. The ambulance will be here soon." John replied, his eyes filled with tears that were threatening to fall.

Sherlock moved his hand up to John's cheek, stroking his fingers gently over the older mans cheek. "John, you and I both know that this is it." He whispered.

John shook his head and moved his hand up to cover Sherlock's. "You are going to be fine." He told the detective.

Sherlock shook his head slowly, it was becoming harder to keep his eyes open and let out a shakeybreath. "I.....I.." He started but couldn't find the words.

"Whatever you have to say can be said when you are recovering in hospital." John said, moving his hand back down to put pressure on the wound.

Sherlock knew he would be gone soon, he could feel it. He new that one day this would happen. He never intended to grow old, at least it was because of something he loved doing. John needed to know though, needed to know how the detective felt.

"I love you John." He murmured, hoping his voice was loud enough for the doctor to hear.

"Don't." John begged. "Please don't." 

"I'm sorry." He whispered before his eyes fell shut, he let out one final breath and closed his eyes.

"No! Sherlock! You wake up!" John screamed, shaking the taller mans lifeless body. "Don't do this to me." John let out a sobbed, leaning forward he pressed his forehead against Sherlock's. "Please." 

John didn't know how long he was sat there cradling Sherlock's lifeless body but it seemed like it had been hours. Lestrade walked over an pulled a rather reluctant John up to his feet.

"He's dead." John sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Dead." He repeated looking at Lestrade.

"There's a taxi waiting for you, go home and get some rest." Lestrade sighed. "I will clear things up here an be over later to check on you." He assured. 

John nodded, he took one last look at Sherlock's body before walking to the taxi. The cab ride home was short and when John had reached the flat he smashed it to pieces, flipping over the chairs and Sherlock's desk. Once the living room looked more like a war zone John slide down the wall and stared off into space. He didn't think about Sherlock he didn't think about anything, he just felt numb.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are crying right now then I apologise! Hope you enjoyed it though! :)


End file.
